


If We Might Go Where There Are No Tomorrows

by scholarlydragon



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Separations, Sweet, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26623060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scholarlydragon/pseuds/scholarlydragon
Summary: The night before Persephone must leave, Hades strives to make the night last.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 130





	If We Might Go Where There Are No Tomorrows

**Author's Note:**

> So much thanks to my betas, Alulah and Jessy, and everyone else who saw the rough doc and simply went "*yes*".
> 
> The title for this popped into my head and I knew I needed a fic for it.
> 
> This is my 50th published story on AO3!

My love.

My sweetness.

My queen.

My _wife_.

I try to hold all of these words and the wealth of emotion they contain. I try to fill myself with the reality of her as I roll over in our bed and cup a hand over her tiny shoulder. Fuschia eyes open to regard me with such tender affection that it steals my breath, and I know that I will fail. I am old. The only gods more ancient than I lie imprisoned with chains I hold. I am powerful. Legions of shades and a third of all creation bows to my whim.

But I cannot comprehend the full weight of her love.

I cannot contain that which it would end me to lose.

Persephone moves close, pressing to my chest, her small hands stroking against my scars, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight, desperate to soak in all of her that I can.

Her leg lifts, hitching over my hip. She sighs quietly as she reaches down to grasp me with gentle fingers. We have been making love for hours, unwilling to allow time to pass without immersing ourselves in each other, but at the slightest touch from my goddess, I respond.

Persephone says nothing as her fingers work to bring me to full hardness, only gazing at me with luminous eyes.

There is nothing to be said.

Words and tears and argument flowed from both of us as we railed against the cruelty of fate. We _fought_ for each other, searching for anything that might help. But nothing had.

What should have been an eternity of wedded bliss would be meted and parceled, six months of joy with the knowledge that, inevitably, six months of terrible loneliness would follow.

As I reach full hardness, Persephone presses closer, angling her hips, and envelops me again in the soft warmth of her body. A muffled cry escapes her, tinged with discomfort, as she comes to rest. I am not surprised. We have had sex in every position and at every speed we could think of... She has to be edging toward sore. At least my slide into her is eased by the copious remains of lovemaking after lovemaking. 

I touch her cheek gently, concerned, but Persephone shakes her head with a soft smile, and the meaning is as clear as if we had spoken aloud.

Neither of us wish to stop. Stopping would mean accepting the shift to our new way of life, accepting that the connection of this night is ended and all that remains is the separation.

Persephone begins to move, and I arch to meet her. Lying on our sides as we are, leverage is difficult to attain, but it almost seems beside the point. Right now, we are one. If the Fates are kind and wishes might come true, what we create here in our bed, what we have together, might never sunder no matter the distance.

There is no averting what will happen.

There is no sunrise in our realm, but morning will come all the same.

Tomorrow will dawn and the sweetness in my life will vanish from my side, half my heart gone for half the year.

We struck a bargain to salvage the fate of beings she cares for. A sacrifice of our lives together to preserve theirs.

As if I would not raze the realms to keep her with me.

As she raises her gaze to meet mine, I cup her cheek tenderly and press a kiss to her waiting lips. The future will bring what it will bring. With her here, now, with me, I will pretend that we might yet find a place where there are no tomorrows.


End file.
